San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-04-21
not Have broken, then do you remem-
Der this day, both Of you, as l wilt"
CHAPTER TX.

pleasant mouse even ~ the OLD SlulfeS
time, was often deserted for months at a
time, and, when the family was at home,
Mrs. Breton went out very little, and in
deed did not look fit for much exertion.
Her aliment seemed TO defy all the skill
Of the many physicians whom her anxious
and adoring husband insisted on consult
ing. She was herself impatient Of any
allusion TO her delicacy, and in spite Of the
large unnaturally bright eyes and fever
flushed cheeks which belied her words,
would assure people who inquired after
her that she was perfectly well, that she
had never been i'll in her life.
She certainly would have neglected the
most ordinary precautions but for the
young Squre's constant solicitude, and to
the doctors orders, to which, she submit
ted with but bad grace.
Her one happiness, during the earlier
years of her married life. had been the So
ciety of Lady Anna Lansing, who. when
ever the Squire's family was at home, had
been frequent and honored guest at
Wyndicote. But during the third winter,
and while Mrs. Breton was away from
England-in Algiers-she had the misfor-
tune to lose this tenderly loved relative;
after which event an inyincible languor
and listlessness appeared to take posses
sion of her body and soul.
Nothing appeared to rouse or interest
her. She even seemed indifferent-so
fond mothers whispered among them
selves-to her baby daughter, whom she
left principally to the care Of her nurse,
while she herself lay for hours and hours
on the sofa, with folded hands and sad
bright eyes, or prasticed the music she
was now becoming so proficient in.
Mark Breton had counted much on the
birth of their child to rouse his beautiful,
worshipped wife from the apathy int
which she seemed to be gradually sink
ing; but the event seemed to make little
alteration in Sibyls health or spirits.
The wandering life they had been COM
PEELED to lead had been sore disappoint
ment to poor Mark, whose heart was at
home with his own smiling acres, and the
house where he had been born and his
fathers before him, though his love stood
the test Of this sacrifice as it did Of Sibyfs
ill-concealed GOODNESS and utter indiffer-
ence to all that most interested him.
But it seemed that their journeyings in
search Of health and happiness were not
successful.
"For Heavens sake let us go back to
Wyndicotep Mrs. Breton exclaimed irri-
tably one day, when she had found her
husband pouring wistfully over bundle
Of home-letters which hal just been for
warded to the yacht. 81 am none 1.-The
better for all this travelling, and 1 am so
tired of itr'
my darling"-Mark's blue eyes lit up
eagerly-"would you really prefer to be
at homef Do you think the change would
do you good"
She had said nothing of being at home; ;
she had never yet called wyndicote by
that name.
n shall be as well there as here, 1 have
no doubt" she answered listlessly; land
you will have something to do with your
time. The days Notwithstanding her
wasted arms and smothering yawn-"are
endless!'
"You poor child! / should like to
spend this winter at home if the doctors
will give us leave. And it would be so
Jolly to see the child running about the
old place at last. misunderstanding his
little daughter and tossing her up in his
fond streng arms-"what would you say
if papa and mamma took you home againf
Wouldn't you and nurse Sweetapple be
fine and pleasedf"
Nab began to chatter excitedly in the
prettiest broken English, and good old
Sweetapple's face beamed with joy.
twas autumn when they reached home.
Mark would have had Sibyl ask her cous-
in Amaranth to stay with her, OF some of
the people from the Castle; but she some
what CURLY refused.
"You will be moped to death until the
shooting begins" he urged. "Why not
have Amaranth down, and show her
Queen Nab, and tell her all about our
travelsH"
"Pray amuse yourself and do not think
Of me-" was Mrs. Bretton's answer. ~
like to be alone"
Mark was to busy TO argue the point
He cheerfully kissed his wife and child
after breakfast. and went off to spend the
morning in going his rounds. His bailiff
was always coming to him. There was
timber to be felled, there were cattle to be
sold, hundred things to be seen to be-
tween breakfast and luncheon, and to that
informal meal he brought all the HARM
less local news for Sibyl, who did not even
pretend to be interested in his glowing
account Of the harvest, or the bargain his
new cows had turned out to be, or of the
fire in Farmer Hayes rick-yard.
The good fellow began to feel that he
should be glad when they had the house
full of people. Surely that would shake
Sibyl out of her istlessness and give her
something to think Of
But when the house was full-as full as
II could hold-and Wyndicote was famous
for its capacity for always being able to
squeeze in "just another"-the young
Squire did not feel that matters were
much mended.
~ am afraid all this will be too much
for you dear, after ALL" he said one night,
when his wife had seemed to drag herself
with more than her usual languor through
the long dinner and the after hours in the
drawing-room.
"No," she answered indifferently.
"You look so tired, ehildF
II am always tired" Her tones were
full of weary impotence. "What does